Things That Go Splash In The Afternoon
by sienna27
Summary: Universe C. Story 7 of 7. Hotch and Emily go late season yachting with Rossi. One shot. Complete.


**Author's Note**: Next entry in Universe C. Takes place the Sunday after "My Girlfriend's Boyfriends"

And this would be a note below that I'd posted over on Something Wicked, but like three people would have seen it :) Seriously though as to that story that I seem to have scared off EVERYONE from reading, there IS H/P relationship stuff in it, if that helps make it more palatable :) Yeah, there's a little bit of icky stuff too, but you guys watch the SHOW! What could I possibly do that is worse than what they're already done? And that's my last pitch :)

But, the note:

_Once again the CM Profiler Awards are running (cute how they actually coincide with the big award season now :)) and thank you to everyone who nominated me for anything! You folks are very nice to me every year, and even if I don't take home any 'prizes' this year, that's okay, because it really is just sweet that my readers have been nominating me regularly since I started posting my little diversions here. I am an erratic poster, stories will sit for months(years) on end with no updates, and I know that I am not always successful in responding to reviews and PMs in a timely fashion (or ever), but STLL, you're nice to me! :) And I thank you for that, truly. Because it would be awesome if I could get paid for this work (and it is work, it takes time to pull rough drafts to polished chapters), but obviously only P.D, James gets paid for writing fanfiction by pretending that it's not. Insert sarcastic eye roll. So people enjoying my writing, and letting me know that they enjoy it by these nomination, is a wonderful part of the process for us FF writers of all fandoms. You don't do it for 'praise' of course, you do it because the words get stuck in your head, and you have to get them out, and eventually, if you're lucky, you grow to love just the writing process. I was lucky enough to get that bug and I do love the process of pulling a story together. So I'd still be posting my nonsense even if nobody was reading it, but it does make me happy to know that you are reading it, and you're happy with it too :) _

_So, for the pimping portion of the process, apparently the ballot will open sometime today, the 17th with this link (no spaces) www . fanfiction forum / Profilers – Choice – Awards – 2014 / 162134 /_

_These are my nominations if anyone is interested in voting for me. And Girl (though I finished it like 4 years ago) is clearly the gift that keeps on giving, to me :) Thanks!_

_-Best Overall Author  
>-Best Het Romance: The Courtship of Clark and Lois<br>-Most Beloved Fic: Falling in Love with A Girl_

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><p><strong>Other Accounts:<strong>

**_Twitter: ffsienna27 _**_– For story announcements, etc. If the alerts, (or the site), are down, this is a backup to find out what's going on for postings. There's also random randomness that is my brain._

_**Personal Website:** Fractured-Reality . com (alternate posting location. Open to all writers/fandoms)_

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_**Tumblr**: **cmfanficprompts **- As implied from the title, CM fanfic prompts and pics. Jointly run w/KaviLeighanna._

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><p><strong>Prompt Set #15 (July 2011)<strong>

Author: Anne Mather

Title Challenge: Hell or High Water

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><p><span><strong>Dun, dun<strong>

"Oh my GOD Aaron, I can't _believe_ you talked me into his HORRIBLE trip!"

Hotch's head snapped up from his book as he looked over at Emily in shock. At present, she was standing three feet away from him with her sunglasses on top of her head, and her arms crossed over the halter of her blue string bikini.

She was shooting him an inexplicably NASTY scowl!

"What are you TALKING about?!" He sputtered back, "I didn't _talk_ you into doing anything! We were invited! And when I _told_ you that we were invited, you said," he dropped his book to his lap to mock her with air quotes, "'oh my God Aaron, that sounds like SOOO much fun,' end quote."

The thing that had sounded like SOOO much fun three days earlier, and now apparently not so much, was the last minute invite from Dave, for the two of them to join him on his last cruise for the season. That would the last cruise in his _fifty foot_, fully staffed, half a million dollar, cruising yacht. The thing was ENORMOUS!

And truly nicer than any home that Hotch had ever had in his life.

And fortunately the weather on that Sunday afternoon in November was, at seventy-five degrees Fahrenheit, not only unseasonably warm for the region, but absolutely PERFECT for a late season sail. So after they'd dropped off Jack at Haley's two hours earlier than usual . . . they were picking him up for dinner Tuesday to even things out . . . he and Emily had driven up to Annapolis to meet Dave and a few of his 'book world' friends.

It was quite the treat to spend the day with 'smart people' who had nothing to do with politics or law enforcement.

And including Dave and the two man, one woman crew, there were just ten passengers on the trip. And up until about thirty-seven seconds ago, Emily 'seemed' to have been having the time of her life tanning and drinking and bouncing around the boat chatting with everyone. But something had clearly just happened, because now she was glaring down at him like he'd just eaten the last slice of pepperoni pizza that she'd been saving for breakfast.

That was the most serious of offenses in their household.

"Yeah well," Emily jerked her chin while jabbing her finger over to the starboard side of the bow, "it was a fun day before I saw what was out THERE!"

_Freaking SEA Monsters!_

Sensing now that whatever his girl had just seen, was about to ruin the rest of his otherwise wholly relaxing day, Hotch took a deep breath. Then he very calmly stood up, and dropped his book down on the deck chair. Then he walked over to where Emily was standing in her bikini and matching blue print sarong.

The skirt was fluttering in the light breeze.

"All right sweetheart," he said quietly while slipping his arm around her waist, "what did you see?"

With his luck, it was probably going to be the Loch Ness Monster. But no, instead she jabbed her finger towards the water again while yelping, "a SHARK! A big, mother f'ing shark, RIGHT there!"

Hotch's eyebrow inched up as he looked over first to the lightly lapping water that they'd been anchored in for the last half hour, and then back down to Emily's pretty, tension filled, face.

"Okay," he responded slowly, "well, that's not really unexpected though, you know. This is essentially ocean water after all. But unless it was Jaws himself out there, it does seem highly unlikely that any shark we encounter in the area is going to be inclined to EAT, the boat. So we should be perfectly safe up here."

Though he would have thought that his perfectly logical counterpoint to the 'it's a big, mother f'ing shark,' scream would have calmed Emily's nerves slightly, it was clear that it really hadn't done anything for her at all. In fact, taking in the violent, 'no, no, no' shaking of her head as she stared out at the water, it was pretty obvious that he hadn't made even the SLIGHTEST dent in whatever concerns were rattling her at the moment.

But it wasn't until she turned to look up at him again, that for the first time he could see something else in her expression. It wasn't just that she was 'upset' about what she'd seen in the water . . . she was frightened too. And seeing that faint pout as she nervously bit down on her lip, his countenance immediately softened.

Then he pulled her into a hug.

"What did you see exactly, Emily?" He murmured in her ear while rubbing his hand down her bare back. And as her fingers twisted in his t-shirt, he heard her whisper back.

"A really big fin, like a _huge_ fin, and I was about to call you over because I was thinking, 'whoa that's something Hotch has never seen.' But before I could say anything," she took a breath, "it disappeared so I figured it was just swimming by, but then," she lifted her head so she could look in his eyes, "it suddenly popped up out of the water again. That time though, he came up REALLY fast, like a bullet. And his mouth was open and I guess he was catching a fish, but," she bit her down on her lip, "it was a Great White, Aaron. And there were all these teeth and this huge, HUGE maw of mouth. I'm not kidding," she shuddered, "nametag or no nametag, it was totally Jaws, but in real life!"

It was one of the scariest things she'd ever seen in her LIFE! And given what she did for a living, that was a real statement! But she'd like to know how ANYBODY would react differently to a mega shark flying up out the water ten feet away from where he or she was standing!

If was just pure luck that she hadn't peed her pants!

Hotch's brow quirked up in confusion.

"Emily, why would Jaws be wearing a nametag? Where would he even pin it?"

Being with her all these months, these were the kinds of ridiculous questions that now immediately popped into his head in the most inopportune of moments. But he could tell from the quick smack to his chest, and the sharp, "Aaron, FOCUS!" that it might not have been the correct time to utter them aloud. So he quickly apologized with a "sorry, sweetheart, mental image there," and a pat to the back. Then he looked back out into the water again.

It looked almost completely placid.

"Well," he shifted his gaze to look down the length of the boat, "I think he's gone now. Or at the very least he's submerged, so what would you like to do?" His brow quirked up as he looked back down at her, "go inside? Go home?"

For a split second he'd almost added, "go swimming," for a third option, but it was clear from the pinched lines around Emily's mouth, that she wasn't quite ready to joke about this one yet.

That probably wouldn't happen until they were back on dry land again.

"Um," Emily's gaze shifted over to the still water, "I really kind of wish we could go home, but," she looked up at him with a sad smile, "I know that's silly and I don't want to be a wet blanket and ruin everybody else's day. So maybe I could um," she looked up hopefully, "just sit with you for a little bit? you know, until I feel better."

Yes, she knew it was 'unlikely' that ENORMOUS shark was going to cause her any personal injury, let alone leap up onto the deck and swallow her whole, but regardless, she really had had QUITE enough of the deep blue sea for one day! Unfortunately though, short of an actual emergency (of which this clearly was not . . . it was a piecean casualty, not a human one) it was just entirely too early to ask Dave to bring them back to shore. They'd only set sail at one, and the plan had been to stay out until five, have dinner below deck, and then start the cruise back to port around five-thirty.

That way they'd be able see the city lights from the water.

And right now, checking Hotch's watch, she could see that it was only a little after three. And though the rest of the party (sans her and Hotch) had moved back inside an hour ago, still, dinner wouldn't be for another two hours, and the sun wouldn't set for another hour after that. She bit down a moan.

Which meant that she was stuck on the water with that THING, out there.

It was definitely a 'crap' moment, but then Emily saw Hotch's eyes crinkling as he looked down at her, and she felt a little of the tension leaving her muscles. Not a lot . . . he leaned down to give her a kiss . . . but at least a little.

And that was better than the 'scared shitless' she'd been for the last four plus minutes.

Then he murmured against her lips, "you can definitely sit with me for as long as you want," and she let out another breath as she slipped her arms around his waist.

"Thank you," she whispered back. And then she dropped back down to her fancy flowered keds, and he walked them back over to his chair. After Aaron had picked up his new biography on Teddy Roosevelt, he dropped it down on the deck, then he dropped himself down into the deck chair.

He pulled her into his lap.

And as she slipped her arm around his neck, he cuddled her close and whispered that she wasn't silly to want to go home, and if she wanted him to, he'd ask Dave if he wouldn't mind maybe starting them back up the coast before dinner, rather than after. That way, even if they did still stay out until after dark, they wouldn't be so far out in the middle of the water when the sun went down. And hearing that proposal, Emily felt a wave of love for the man holding her in his arms.

Every day he'd do something else, something new, to show her how much he loved her. They weren't always grand sweeping gestures, sometimes it was just a tiny little thing. Like last week when he'd taken the burnt turkey sausage from her breakfast plate, and switched it with the perfectly cooked sausage patty she'd given to him with his scrambled eggs. Given that she was the one that had _burned_ half of their breakfast meat . . . stupid Today Show had distracted her with George Clooney . . . she figured that she should be the one that had to eat it. But Aaron had said no. It was fine.

Charcoaled turkey sausage carcass was his favorite.

Then he'd winked, and flashed her a dimple, and she'd felt her eyes start to tear up. Because she was constantly amazed that she'd been so lucky to meet, let alone fall in love with, absolutely the sweetest man on the planet.

She'd definitely worked up some major karma, somewhere along the way.

Case in point, just before she went to respond to his offer to speak to Dave, the man himself popped out of the cabin, and started walking over. He was carrying two sun glistening bottles of Corona in one hand, and a glass of, what looked like Scotch, in the other.

"Figured you guys might need a drink," he said with a smile.

And dear God did she EVER need a drink! Dave's lady bartender had served Mai Tais about an hour ago, but she and Hotch had both cut themselves off at one, because they didn't want to get buzzed on the boat.

It seemed a surefire path to seasickness.

But at this point, Emily would gladly drink anything that would take the edge off her nerves. So as Dave walked closer, she shifted to reach out and grab the bottles he was holding towards them.

"Thanks Dave," she sighed while passing one to Hotch, "thank you very much."

"Eh," Dave's lip quirked up, "no problem, I also wanted to check and see how you guys were doing up here by yourselves. Marsha didn't drive you off, did she? I know she can get a little loud after a couple drinks, and she was hitting the Mai Tais pretty hard."

Marsha was his book editor. A brilliantly smart, funny, redhead in her late forties, with a great set of tits and an even better ass. Basically she was just an all around cool broad, who, when drunk however, tended to speak at decibels loud enough to call in a cavalcade of small dogs.

It was a pitch that could be a bit 'off-putting' in an enclosed spaced.

So he was figuring that might have been why Emily had slipped out a half an hour ago. Though as he saw her sitting on Hotch's lap, he was thinking that maybe she'd had something else in mind on that deck, besides just peace and quiet.

Side point to that, it was still a bit of an adjustment for Dave seeing the two of them together that way. To that end, her in the skimpy string bikini top with the silky sarong, and Hotch dressed as casual as Dave had ever seen him (faded blue t-shirt and cargo shorts) with his beer holding arm around her waist and his hand on her thigh. At the moment they were about as far from 'work Hotch and Prentiss' as Dave could imagine.

Though as he watched the two of them exchange a look that was actually VERY reminiscent of them on the job . . . that silent conversation thing they did . . . he had to wonder what was going on.

And then Hotch answered the 'what were they doing up there by themselves question,' for the two of them.

"Actually Dave, everyone's been very nice. It's just that there was a um," he tipped his head to the right, "a shark that popped up off the starboard side, a big shark," he lightly patted Emily's leg, "and we were just talking about it."

"A shark!" Dave barked back with excitement while walking over to the rail. "What kind?" Then he called over his shoulder, "you know I read about a Great White sighting they had off Virginia Beach a couple weeks ago, but they're so rarely seen around here, I figured they were just making it up."

"Uh, no," Emily piped up with a shake of her head, "no, they weren't making it up. That's what I saw too. It was," she bit down on her lip, "very large."

Horrifyingly so. But hey, what were a few more nightmares to add to the standard arsenal she already lived with?!

Rossi spun back around.

"HOLY SHIT! You saw a Great White! That's AMAZING!"

Given that he'd been sailing in these waters for the past twelve years and hadn't seen jack shit worth mentioning, that was actually BEYOND amazing!

But then he noticed the body language of his two friends, how Hotch was squeezing Emily's hand, and how she had her cheek pressed against his, and he realized that perhaps these two were not _quite_ so excited about seeing the apex predator of the oceans as he would have expected them to be. Or at least how excited he himself would have been. So he tipped his head.

"I'm sorry, was it not amazing?"

"Well," Hotch tipped his head, "I didn't actually see it myself, but I believe that Emily might describe it more as unsettling, than amazing."

Feeling her nod in enthusiastic agreement, Hotch continued with the request he'd already promised her he'd make of Dave. Though he had planned to seek him out privately, as long as he was here, really no time like the present. So he raised an eyebrow before continuing in his most conciliatory tone possible.

"Actually to that point, we were wondering if it might be possible to uh," he winced slightly, "move out of the immediate vicinity? Perhaps shift a bit north?

"But only if it's not too much trouble," Emily immediately added. "I don't want to be a bother. It's just," her teeth sunk into her lip as she shook her head, "that mouth was really big, and," her voice faded slightly, "he can jump very high."

It's not like it was doing those acrobatic flips like on Discovery Channel, but still . . . he'd gotten some air!

Feeling his expression immediately soften . . . it was obvious the thing had scared the crap out of her . . . Dave walked back over to where the two of them were sitting.

Then he gave Emily a little smile.

"Of course honey. Not a problem at all. I'll have the captain move us a few miles back up the coast. There's an inlet, we can have dinner there, and if afterwards you still want to get closer to dry land," his eyes crinkled, "just let me know. We can head back early and drop you guys off. Then we'll just keep drinking at the docks."

The last thing he wanted was for her to be stuck out on the open water if she was frightened, and given that she was sitting in Hotch's lap clutching onto him like a teddy bear, while the lounge chair she'd been using most of the afternoon . . . placed barely seven inches away from Hotch's chair . . . was now sitting empty, the logical conclusion WAS that she wasn't having the best of times any longer. Though he could see from the way her face lit up at the announcement they could head home, that news had done something to perk up her state of mind.

It was also clear from the mouthed, "thank you," from Hotch, (along with the nod of gratitude), that getting off the boat had likely been the topic of conversation just before he came out on deck.

Poor thing.

But then Emily gave him an exuberant "thank you!," while blowing him a kiss. And he had to chuckle at that because of course she had to then _immediately_ make sure to mime the kiss was to go on his cheek, and NOT on his lips.

"Prentiss you are a pip!" he snorted and she gave him a little smile.

"Well, I know you're still between exes right now," she said with a faint crinkling of her eyes, "so just wanted to make sure that the nature of the kiss was clear." She rubbed Hotch's shoulder, "I'm taken."

There had actually never been ANY point in her life to date where she was AS taken, as she was now that she was with Hotch. It might have taken thirty-nine years, but the wait had most definitely been worth it. And feeling the faint vibration of Hotch's chuckle at her remark, she turned to smack a quick (real) kiss on his lips.

Lip kisses were now for him only.

And when she looked back up at Rossi, he could see that though there was still clearly a look of amusement on his face, his expression had also softened slightly.

"What?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Dave's mouth twisted in a faint, wistful, smile.

"I was just going to say that you two are without a doubt, a _perfect _fit for one another. And to quote my old Sicilian great-grandmother, I wish you many happy years, and many fat babies."

Knowing that he needed to stop there before he got too schmaltzy (he'd had too much hard liquor that day) before either of them could respond, Dave jerked his thumb over his shoulder.

"I'm going to go talk to the captain. And I'll send Monique out with fresh beers in about a half hour."

And with that, he headed back inside.

Feeling her eyes start to sting, Emily looked over to Hotch with a faintly watery smile.

"You know I'd be thrilled with a couple of fat babies. Would you like that?"

They hadn't actually talked about kids yet. Yes, Hotch was aware that her reproductive region had a bit of a Gong Show going on down there, but she hadn't actually brought up any timetables yet for anything so permanent as children. Yes, they were absolutely, one hundred percent, PERMANENT in her mind (and she was sure, his), but in their situation her asking him to give her a baby, would have been on par with him giving her a ring.

A step they couldn't take back.

But as she saw Hotch turn to her with a faint dimple, she was pretty sure that he was as okay with taking that step now as she was.

"I think we should start practicing tonight," he stated firmly.

Then he winked, and her lips twitched as she brought the Corona up to her mouth.

The baby conversation had now been had, with all of the usual pomp and circumstance that had been displayed for every important discussion they'd had to date, i.e. . . . none whatsoever. And for a moment they were both quiet, as they sipped their beers. Then a thought occurred to Emily, and she brought her bottle back down to her leg.

The condensation dripped down onto her thigh.

"Aaron," she started softly, "when we get home would you please collect the Jaws DVD and put it away until I tell you to take it out again?"

"Unmarked, manila envelope, shoved into the back of the safe, okay?" He asked matter of factly. And she nodded.

"Yeah, that'll work."

Then he took another sip, and as she was lifting her own bottle back up, she heard him slowly exhale.

"What about Nemo? Should I collect Nemo too?"

"Um," her brow scrunched as she twisted her jaw, "no, no that'll be okay to leave out, but," she looked over at him, "I think we're going to have to fast forward through Bruce for a little while, okay?"

He tipped his head.

"Yep."

Then he took another sip, and slowly exhaled. When she looked over, she saw that he'd closed his eyes. And she let him rest them for a moment, before whispering softly.

"Honey?"

"Mmm," came back to the non-literate response, but it was a response nonetheless, so she continued.

"Do you think my kids will be crazy too?"

For a second there was complete silence, then Hotch's eyes popped open and as he thought back on the last few years of ridiculous, GLORIOUS insanity, that he'd experienced with Emily in their private moments both on the job, and off, his mouth started to quiver.

"Sweetheart," he chuckled, "we can only hope!"

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><p><em>AN 2: Believe it or not, I was watching an ancient episode of 'Hart to Hart' where Jennifer and Jonathan were in like Bermuda and I had been simultaneously pulling some new CM screen shots on my laptop while I half ass watched TV, when suddenly I flashed on H/P taking a trip on the water, her seeing a shark and them arguing about it. Basically the entire story was written around, "why would Jaws be wearing a nametag, sweetheart," because that was the first line that popped into my head. The rest of it came out the next day. If only they would all come so easily. And THANK THE UNIVERSE, for Universe C, because it continues to be the perfect repository for these random little one shots. By the time I retire here we're going to have 700 tiny little stories under that header._

_Emily's dislike of sharks is Girl fanon, as 'established' in The Lightning Round chapter, of Girl proper. Those trivia chapters are quite helpful in pulling random threads forward later. Also, you'll recall she bought that blue string bikini in the summer offshoot, Itsy Bitsy Teeny Weeny. And the sarong, an 'offscreen' purchase for her :), if you're interested in seeing it, there's a picture of it with the story posting on my Tumblr._

_I very much liked the idea of them out sailing with Rossi, it's a whole other palette to explore that has never come up before, so I might send them out again. Maybe something in Life & Such where Will and JJ could join them too. I do like writing the dynamic of the four of them, and them being 'on vacation' together, would probably be fun to write._

_That's all folks!_


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